Shut the Fuck Up, Noel Fielding
by skullstompin
Summary: "Bit creepy, really, he thought amiably to himself as Julian tugged him quietly into the caravan's stuffy bathroom. Like a zombie film or something. 'Cept more gay sex." Mighty Boosh RPS HELP I DONT KNOW HOW TO CATEGORIZE RPS BOOSH ON THIS THING SO SORRY ABOUT THAT


He was never really used to Julian like this. Normally he was the one all breathy and pink-faced with restless fingers and nippy kisses, but that was definitely not to say he wasn't now. Especially the way Julian shoved him against the wall and licked, bit, sucked aggressively at a certain part on his neck near his collar bone until it was this vicious little red spot with angry teeth marks.

"You can fuck me," he moaned, partly for the show and because he loved the way it made Julian go all quiet and ambitious, "Right here against this wall."

There was a huff of croaky laughter against his skin that made him want to come right there, on spot with nothing more than the lightest touch of fingers against his erection. "And what would you say if anyone were to come in and witness this little..." he paused, and by the faltered breath that he gave when Noel began to move his hips in slow, tantalizing circles, it was obvious that he clearly DID want to fuck him against the wall, "...exhibition."

Noel shrugged, breaking the movement for just a moment, "I slipped and fell?" he twined his fingers around the back of Julian's neck, forcing their eyes level and giving a gladden grin that was a bit adjacent to the fact that his dick was now being fingered around in the front of his trousers. "Fuck the reporters. Not literally," he coughed and smiled and felt stupid, "Fuck me instead."

He paused for a minute, eyes searching Noel's as though he were considering going through with the proposition before shaking his head and giving a rough tug to the zip of the trousers. The anticipation was irritating and Noel had to bite his lip, all pursed with concentration at getting his goddamn trousers open. The bite turned into a vigorous kiss, desperate as he fisted the collar of Julian's shirt and twisted, crumpling the effort of professionality he'd put into it just that morning.

His voice was rough as he spoke, having successfully unbuttoned the front of the trousers and now peeling it down his thighs as quickly as he could, Ju bit off the kiss and leaned into the other's neck, "I'm going to suck you off, and if it takes too long for you to come, you're going to have to explain, on your own, why you have a hard on during an interview about your childhood." His eyes were dark, and by the way he spoke, in those commanding, curt sentences, Noel felt helplessly inclined to obey whatever was being asked of him. "So," he continued, stroking Noel's erect cock in this manner that could be similar and acquiescent as tying a child's shoe, "Come quietly. Don't act like a cocky little shit after I'm done. Be quick about it. Don't make requests."

Noel nodded, though he was already starting to grin all cheeky assured. "But you like the way I sound when I'm there."

Julian gave him this intently unamused stare that made him burst into a laugh that he muffled quickly with the back of his hand. He could see someone outside of the caravan walking around, and the thought that, at any moment, they could be discovered, cock out and swollen-lipped, was both thrilling and mortifying. Then Julian was on his knees, playing the tip around with his tongue and wrenching throaty gasps from the other man. He never knew what to do in moments like these. Most people would roll their hips or moan or mutter or something, but he was always at a loss. So instead, he curled his fingers in Julian's hair and draped his head against the wall and began to speak.

"I never know how to act with anyone else who isn't you." Julian took that moment to swallow down the rest of his cock, and he gave a breathy,"oh-" like he'd just been told something uninteresting about the Golden Gates. His voice returned again, though, trembling a little around the edges as he spoke. "You do these things, right, that no one else would know to do to me, and it makes me think I love you and stuff and it's real confusing." He felt a hum transition through around his cock, all warm and wet and shimmy up through the rest of his bones. His voice was cracked, but he kept talking. The man outside of the window was nowhere to be seen, thank fucking God. "Like when we shag, I just want more of you and it messes me up. When you're not around I feel pointless and stupid and it makes me-" he felt teeth beginning to press against his shaft, working up and down with tongue flicking hungrily against the head. "Fuck." His head fell against the wall again, and he gripped Julian's hair even tighter, forcing him to work at a quicker pace. "Anyway, I was thinking about things. I think we should let people know we do stuff like this. Because," he faltered a little bit, breathy and exhausted. "Because I just want to tell people. Because I like you more everyday and it makes me sick to my stomach sometimes."

Julian stopped, much to his disappointment, and gave him a glare from his place on the floor before he released Noel's dick. "Do you even know what 'be quiet' means?"

"Afraid not. I'm a brat."

His face changed from glare to placid stare, the one that always made him feel like he was visible through to the core, with no density or sophistication, and he shifted uncomfortably. Then, pulling him closer by the hips, Julian stood straight on his knees so that he was level with Noel's chest (tall bloke) and tugged him down to a kiss with hands on either side of his face. It would have been awkward, with the way that he was craned over Julian instead if vice versa, but instead it was actually sort of nice. It ended abruptly, though, when Noel glanced out of the window to see the man had returned, this time with four or five others, all lugging cameras and equipment.

"Brilliant." The men outside actually seemed rather fascinating from this angle. Like they had lives and personal issues and personalities that didn't revolve around asking annoying questions and interrupting mind-blowingly delicious blow jobs. He wished they would leave.

Julian turned abruptly, stubble brushing roughly against Noel's chin as he did so and jolting his stomach in this way that he couldn't quite explain. He felt dirty and stupid and useless and giddy, violated, perturbed and so, so happy. Still holding him by his hips, Julian shuffled over so that they were only visible through the window at an odd, commanding angle. Not quite safe, but closer than a full-on mouth-on-dick photograph.

"Now listen, as much as I love hearing every word of the shit that comes out of your mouth, I need you to keep it down-"

"If I want to keep it up," he finished eagerly. Julian gave him a blank stare that made him laugh breathy and pink-cheeked and snubbed by the back of his hand.

"You're annoying."

Noel began to shove at his shoulders, still grinning and glancing at the window in this haste youbettergetonwithit way, "Yeah. So." One of the men outside lit a cigarette and fiddled with the head of the microphone. Looked quite fluffy, that microphone.

Julian descended once more to his knees and then pulled him closer by his belt buckle, "Right, but you have to stop talking. It freaks me out."

"What, like saying 'I love you?' Bit romantic, aren't you Ju?"

But Julian didn't respond, instead he nipped rather pleasantly at Noel's hip, causing him to jolt a little and then yank playfully at his hair. A breathy laugh and then sudden, relinquished sigh when his erection was swallowed, stubble scratch delicate. For a moment he did act normal, his fingers caressed and stroked down Julian's skull, twining a few locks round and round as he made gurgle-noises that most blokes would never allow to leave their lips, but then he made the mistake of opening his eyes and glancing out the window. Right at the edge, too, when he could feel the orgasm beginning to coast through his gut and make his breath all heavy and raggedy, and then he looked to the crew to find a few of them clustered directly near that one dangerous spot in the entire fucking lot. Panic wasn't quite rigid, but it was there, nibbling at his bones and lungs and making him short in quick, efficient seconds. "Ju-"

The sudden drop in temperature between very warm, very wet mouth to very stale, slightly chilly air made him yelp, which he tried, a bit too late, to snuff with the palm of his hand. The blokes outside seemed to take interest in the trailer all at once. Bit creepy, really, he thought amiably to himself as Julian tugged him quietly into the caravan's stuffy bathroom. Like a zombie film or something. 'Cept more gay sex.

"Now please, God, be quiet," Julian whispered hollowly into the shell of his ear, and then rested his forehead in the curve of his neck, breath tickling down his shirt as he began to pump Noel's cock with a hurried, tired hand. It was still nice, though. Anything like this, when it came to Julian, rushed or tired or frazzled, awkward, twisted, or flat-out inappropriate was always best with Julian. Noel's breath hitched, and he gripped the arm wrapped around his waist tightly.

"Sorry this is so... sorry," he was murmuring, kissing around Noel's neck in this way that made him shamelessly- for lack of a better word- melty. "I can't wait to do this proper, though. As in shut you up." He pressed one of his legs between the other two, causing sudden, jolting pressure as his hand worked steadily. Freeing his arm from Noel's grip, he cupped his arse and then bit pleasantly against his neck. The stroking quickened, and his tongue traced a shape to his jaw.

And then there was a knock on the door of the trailer. A timid, hesitant voice accompanied, "Hey, you two in here? We were told we could catch'u out here."

To Noel, "We almost done?"  
To Timid, "Yeah. We're here."

"Give us a sec-ond," Noel tried to add, though his voice snapped into some other octave halfway through his response when Julian bit unorthodoxly hard on his neck.

Timid's reply was immediate, and audibly pale in comparison to his last inquiry, "Oh. Oh, yeah. Okay." It dwindled into a couple of awkward coughs from the other side of the door.

Julian's voice was rough, and he squeezed his arse aggressively, hissing into his neck, "What did I tell you about speaking?"

One last flick of his thumb, and Noel came, knees quivering and head resting heavily against his shoulder as Julian whispered, "Good, good, good."

After a moment to breathe and smile against the other man's lips, Noel found his voice had rekindled some of its former decency, and he opened the bathroom door with a call to Timid, "S'alright! We needed a place to talk for a while. We're well ready!"

"Y-yeah?" someone else answered, and the handle of the door gave a fumbling noise.

Julian gave him a friendly pat on the arse as he passed to let them in. "Zip yourself up, you nonce."


End file.
